


a once and future king

by pieandsouffle



Series: the watcher's crown is worn by a queen [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Archivist Sasha AU, Archivist Sasha James, Gen, Sort Of, Spoilers for Episode 161, and made looooots of fun at his expense, are these conversations unrealistic?, my coworkers and i have talked about the big boss like this on shift, so yes its realistic cause i say so lol, workplace banter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:20:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23493850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pieandsouffle/pseuds/pieandsouffle
Summary: Sasha wouldn't say she's exactly qualified to become the Head Archivist. But she was Gertrude's pick for a successor, and honestly, why would she say no? The position is well-paid, she gets to bring her friends with her and, really, what could possibly go wrong?
Series: the watcher's crown is worn by a queen [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1690378
Comments: 10
Kudos: 181





	a once and future king

**Author's Note:**

> I hate everything about this piece of writing, but it's mostly just to stake a claim in that I HAVE AN ARCHIVIST!SASHA AU IN THE WORKS. I will probably edit this whole piece and/or delete it later but! There's more coming! I promise!

Sasha enters Elias’s office at 11:13am. She leaves at 11:30am exactly. Her phone proclaims that only seventeen minutes have passed; impressively short considering what was discussed, but her skin crawls as she steps out into the corridor, sure that far more time has passed.

She stands there in the corridor outside his office for a few seconds longer than she intends, just letting the information sink deeper into her brain and stew. It was barely a discussion. It was more Elias telling her things, and she having difficulty processing them.

Gertrude Robinson.

Former Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute.

Missing.

Presumed dead.

Sasha James.

Former researcher.

Current Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute.

Not bad for someone only just stepped onto the right side of thirty.

 _Especially_ not bad for someone who doesn’t have a degree in library science.

She chances another few seconds – swallows down the news. It’s difficult. There’s a spur in her throat that manifested when Elias coolly informed her that Gertrude Robinson is missing, presumed dead, and that there really is no point waiting for her to come back as it isn’t very likely, and Sasha was Gertrude’s choice of a replacement if something ever happened to her so, Sasha, here is the second-most illustrious position at the Institute on a silver platter – and here, why don’t you bring your friends with you down there?

Whatever Gertrude’s opinions on her successor, it’s difficult to see why Elias agrees with it. That’s the most difficult part to process of all. It’s not as though she and Gertrude were ever very similar to begin with: she certainly doesn’t have the aura of ruthless efficiency that wreathed Gertrude. In fact, by the looks of the Archives whenever she went down there, Gertrude wasn’t efficient either, if the colossal mess that greeted her was anything to go by. She’s confident enough in herself to say that efficiency does come to her, but ruthless isn’t something she’d ever believe applied to her.

Gertrude was ruthless and inefficient. Sasha likes to think of herself as efficient _and_ approachable. The other candidates are different again. Tim’s approachable yes, but admittedly a little … well, _careless_ to ever be quite enough on Elias’s good side to warrant such a promotion. The incident with the auditor comes to mind. And the cleaner. And that dare she gave him when they were durnk that he carried out the next day, and –

Well. She agrees that Tim probably isn’t Archivist material.

Elias is particularly fond of Jon, who is frighteningly competent, but also one of the most standoffish human beings she’s ever met, and would probably die down there of malnourishment, scurvy, and vitamin-D deficiency. Martin –

Well.

She loves Martin, she does. She also knows that he absolutely, was definitely not ever even considered for the position. Ava’s freshly away on maternity leave, and so that just leaves … Sasha.

She never planned for a promotion. The closest she got was hoping for a raise, and maybe that she wouldn’t be electrocuted plugging her laptop into the research wing wall sockets.

The research wing of the Institute – more a collection of small rooms of obsolete desks haphazardly pushed into wonky line, with jarringly contemporary wheelie chairs rolled beneath – is the dingiest above-ground level of the building. The bulbs overhead emit a flickering, jaundiced light. The desk lamps plugged into disconcertingly charred wall sockets do little to remedy this, their own light casting greenish shadows and making Jon look dead rather than simply sleep-deprived. It’s an unpleasant place in which to work. Better than Artefact Storage; that’s true enough, but unless working on an especially juicy piece of research, Sasha can’t ever remember being truly eager to come in to work and sit at her faintly mouldy desk. She’d never say she’s _repulsed_ by the thought of coming in … just that, as with any job, she’d prefer to be home rather than grovelling to late-stage capitalism. But since that permeates all existence far more than any fiercely-denied rot does the Institute, or Uncle Henry’s frankly atrocious BO does family reunions, she gets up every weekday morning with a sigh and a coffee, heartened to know that her co-workers will be there to greet her, and that Martin will have a well-made mug of tea to bestow upon her.

And as she re-enters the research wing, those co-workers _are_ there to greet her. Martin’s even coming in himself with a tray from the breakroom, four mugs of fresh tea balanced on top.

They won’t really be her co-workers if they say yes to what she’s going to ask. They’ll be her employees. Elias said she could pick three assistants from the current research staff, and she knew that he knew that she knows that’s barely a decision because the people she’s going to pick, _obviously_ , are Tim, Martin and Jon. And if they agree – which she dearly hopes they do – they’ll pack up their things and head down into the Archives.

God, she can’t wait to tell Tim that his first task is to steal the finance staff’s sandwich press.

“What did Elias want with you?” Tim asks, carefully lining up a queue of novelty animal erasers she distantly remembers seeing in Ava’s bottom desk drawer. He places a yellow and orange one – a lion, she thinks – at the very edge of his desk, turned to that it stares at Jon with painted black eyes.

Jon’s mouth thins as he stares back with intense distrust. Then he raises his current casefile up to hide his face from its rubber stare.

“Take a guess!” she tells him, and falls back at her desk. Not hers any longer. She hopes Gertrude’s isn’t mouldy too.

“Proposing marriage,” Tim says instantly.

“That’s dis _gus_ ting,” she replies immediately. Martin lets out a startled laugh that shakes his tea tray, and Jon’s fingers tighten around his statement, a sure sign that he’s scowling or at the very least, frowning. Whether that’s in response to Martin or Tim or Sasha herself, she really can’t say.

It probably is a bad idea to laugh at jokes, or make jokes, or think about jokes about her boss who’s just promoted her. Especially when the joke is that she just said he’s disgusting.

“You said to guess,” says Tim, “so that’s what I’m doing.”

 _“_ Maybe he’s getting started on employee evaluations?” Martin suggests. He awkwardly holds out a cup of tea in the general direction of Jon’s desk. A thin hand snakes out from behind the file, takes the cup, and slithers back. “And he wants you to – uh – spill the beans on us?”

Ah, sweet Martin.

Tim shakes his head. “Martin, Martin,” he scolds. He shuts one eye and draws a line with his finger between the lion and Jon and gives it a flick. Sasha follows its arc across the room with an amused eye, and even more amused one when it makes contact with its target and bounces off. Jon’s shoulders hunch further, and he grips the now-lightly bent file more tightly. “Where’s the creativity in that? The imagination? The drama? The intrigue?” He lines up another, this time aiming for the still-open drawer of Ava’s abandoned desk.

“We could all do with a lot _less_ of that,” Jon say sourly.

“What was that, Jon? Did you have a guess?”

The sound that emerges from behind the statement isn’t a word of sort, but does successfully convey Jon’s opinion on the whole conversation better than any word could.

“Your guess is warmer, Martin,” Sasha says over it. “I don’t think Elias is a heterosexual.”

“Oh, obviously not,” Tim agrees. Martin looks trapped between unwillingness to laugh at his boss, but also very amused.

Jon throws down his file. “We should not be _speculating_ ,” he starts furiously.

“Stating a simple opinion is speculation now, folks! You heard it here first, from Jonny Sims himself – ”

“I’ve asked you not to call me that, Tim; it’s _completely_ juvenile – ”

“Maybe he wanted suggestions on how to improve his Grindr profile?” Martin suggests timidly, apparently deciding that all four of them will be fired if anything gets heard. Tim flinches so violently his second eraser projectile (an elephant, this time) lands nowhere near Ava’s desk, and spins off to the left to smack Jon in his horrified face.

This time it _is_ possible to tell towards whom Jon’s scowl is directed. And it’s not Tim.

“That is _proper_ disgusting!” Tim crows in delight.

“You did say you wanted creative!” Martin argues, trying and failing to withhold guilty giggles.

“Ugh, that’s just _so_ bad; when I said imagination I never would have expected you to destroy _mine_ – ”

“This is _completely inappropriate_ – ”

“I refuse to believe that Elias fucks – ”

_“TIM – ”_

“I mean, I could see him maybe with a banker, offshore accounts type of – no, no I’m not doing this.” Sasha puts her face in her hand and tries to stave off giggles. Thank god Elias isn’t here. Thank god. She can’t imagine how unimpressed he’d be to see his freshly-promoted archivist and friends speculating on his sexual exploits. “ _God,_ you know? I think – I think we’re done here. This conversation is over. No one’s allowed to talk about – talk about this – this anymore.”

If her voice wobbles a bit, that’s none of anyone’s business.

“You’re not our boss, Sasha,” Tim says cheerfully. “This discussion is the most interesting thing to – ”

“Well I mean, that’s not strictly true anymore.”

“This _is_ very interesting – ”

“Oh, I don’t mean that.”

“You don’t – what?” Tim tapers off into silence, and the others follow suit.

All three of them stare at her, silent and confused. It’s so quiet Sasha can actually _hear_ the ticking of the watch wrapped around Jon’s skinny wrist. Tim’s eyebrow is raised in question, Martin blinks owlishly, and Jon is busy rubbing his face where the eraser hit it, but is also examining her curiously.

“I,” she says with a grin, “am now your boss. Or I will be, if you accept the positions I’m about to offer you.”

“Shut _up_ ,” Tim says in awe.

“Oh! Congratulations!” Martin says.

“Elias promoted you?” Jon asks. The gears crunching behind his eyes are visible and almost audible, trying to work out just what she’s been promoted _to_. The Archivist position is so out of the blue, she doesn't think it could ever occur to him. There aren’t a lot of positions she’s qualified for higher than researcher. Head researcher? Not a thing. Receptionist? A demotion if she ever saw one. She watches him struggle for a few seconds more, then: “But what _to?_ ”

She grins wider. 

**Author's Note:**

> I have actually finished a _really good_ draft (if I may say so) of a statement in this AU, which I have to edit a little bit before I post. I also have planned out a bunch of stuff encompassing the first _and_ second seasons in this AU, of which I am EXTREMELY EXCITED.


End file.
